Imitation Games
by TipMeOverAndRobMeBlind
Summary: "It was imitation that brought me to her, and it was imitation that would take her away from me" Isabella Swan is at a stressfull place in her life, and when given the oppurtunity to escape her bad debts and idiocy, she gratefully takes it. But what haooens when she's caught out? And what happens when she falls for the man who has every right to hate her?


**Hey guys! So this is my first story! It's work in progress but I really wanted to post it. Sorry this chapter is so short, but I promise the rest will be longer... HopefullyD:**

 **Okay, I'll stop talking so you can read. Enjoy and leave a review if you wish:)**

"You're not her" Edward Cullen said in a taut and controlled voice as he burst into the bathroom I was currently occupying.

"Excuse me?" I asked, my voice slightly rising in pitch, giving me away.

Waves of anger and agitation rolled off of Edward as he stood in the doorway, fists clenched at his side. I could imagine he was feeling quite betrayed, even though I have only known him for eight days or so. It was just awkward for me at the moment, as I was mid-pee. But that was soon the last thing I was feeling as he persisted with his accusations.

He took a step towards me and he closed the bathroom door. It kind of struck me as a kind gesture. Even though he's severely pissed off at me, he still respects my privacy in an odd way, considering he has barged into the bathroom in the first place.

A moment of silence overcame us as we stared at each other, the only sound being me emptying my bladder. I found it weird that I no longer felt weird and awkward, and oddly I felt comfortable being this exposed to him. He didn't stare or act weird, he was just angry.

I eventually flushed the toilet and got up to wash my hands, after wiping of course, but before I could get to the sink, Edward had made his way over to me and grabbed a hold of my forearm firmly. I looked down to where his hand had latched onto my arm, his knuckles a ghostly white colour. There was a trail of goosebumps along where his hand had made contact with my flesh. It happened every time we touched, like an uncontrollable case of the hiccups.

His green, piercing eyes searched mine for a minute, almost pleadingly, as if he was begging me to tell the truth.

"Who are you?" He asked, his voice thick with anger and another emotion I was yet to identify. His eyebrows knitted together tightly, and a part of me, the part that does not know a serious situation when one comes about, feared that he might develop a unibrow if they got any closer.

"Alice Cullen" I answered dishonestly. The tell tale signs of a lie were all there: I refused to make eye contact, for I knew his emerald orbs with disentangle me from my web of lies. My foot bounced off the ground like it was trying to run away, but instead stayed put and sounded like a drummer who has too much caffeine in their system. And I was sure he could feel how tense I was under his hold.

Truth be told, I was slightly taken back by his accusations. Him finding out was not part of the plan. He was never supposed to know that I was not his darling sister. But he has, and now I was utterly screwed.

His chiseled jaw ticked, which told me he knew I was lying. He laughed a dry laugh that made me feel slightly uncomfortable, because it was one of those laughs that people only did when they saw red.

"I'll ask you again. Who the fuck are you?" I sighed, contemplating if I should tell him the truth. I shook my head slightly at the foolishness of even considering it.

Of course I'm going to lie my ass off.

"I'm your sister, you tool" I said slowly, trying to make my voice sound even, but failing miserably.

His jaw ticked again, and his eyes turned a darker green, emotions flowing through them like fish in water.

"What's her middle name?" He questioned, his eyebrows arching up in question.

I sighed and looked at the bathtub, avoiding eye contact once again.

Okay, you passed high school by guessing, you can ace this question by guessing too, right?

"Elizabeth" I answered confidently, but he shook his head in disbelief. He let go of my arm, but backed me up against the cold, tiled wall with his arms at either side of my head, essentially trapping me.

His eyes bore into mine, allowing me to see the emotions flowing through them. Anger, confusion, betrayal and now disbelief. His breaths became more ragged and I was acutely aware of his chest heaving up and down just inches away from mine. I watched helplessly as he tried to control his feelings.

"Wrong answer" he sighed as he looked down at my small frame trapped by his. "What's your name?"

I stayed silent, knowing I couldn't lie any longer, but unable to utter the truth.

"Tell me" he said in a demanding tone that surprised me more than anything.

"Isabella Swan" I blurted out, somewhat disappointed by his persistence.

"What age are you?"

"Twenty three"

"And what business do you have imitating my sister?"


End file.
